


like i've been awakened

by elloquente



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Insomnia, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, the others are briefly mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 08:52:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4094701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elloquente/pseuds/elloquente
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He could never return what Ronan has done for him in the past, and it frustrates him to think that Ronan was never asked, yet gave anyway. He couldn’t use him, not more than he already has.</p>
<p>alternatively: adam can't sleep and cabeswater knows what to do about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	like i've been awakened

**Author's Note:**

> again, thank you so much darling, sweet [sharon](http://archiveofourown.org/users/justaboat) for reading and encouraging and editing, even though you'd just finished work. i owe you everything.
> 
> this is very self-indulgent, sort of-canon and most likely post-tdt (as i still haven't read bllb).
> 
> ps. title is from beyoncé's halo, oops ds.

He hasn’t slept in days.

It’s not that he’s not tired, because he is. Between running around looking for Glendower and working extra hard just to make sure he’s tired enough to sleep, he’s plenty exhausted. His muscles ache with it, every lift and bend and turn a cause for reaction. And yet, when he lays down on the by-now familiar bed, nothing happens.

There’s a buzzing in the back of his head, endless thoughts of _when_ and _how_ and _if_. _When_ will he sleep again. _How_ is it that Ronan seems to care so much about him. What _if_ Adam cares about Ronan, too?

He huffs a breath, rolls his eyes even though there’s no one there to see or hear him. Of course he cares about Ronan, he always has. Even before Cabeswater, before Blue, before leaving his parents, he cared about Ronan. Just not… not like this.

This? He turns, not making a sound. He’s not much for complaining loudly.

Outside the window the summer air is stale and hot and it’s familiar, but it doesn’t stop Adam’s skin from prickling as he breathes in, eyebrows pulling together as he tries to keep his eyes shut. _Just a little bit, please, just a few hours_ , he thinks to himself, prays to someone he doesn’t believe in.

The sun rises, and Adam hasn’t slept at all. Giving up, he gets on his feet and heads for the bathroom. He doesn’t have to look like death, even though he feels like it.

+

“You look like shit, Parrish,” Ronan says as Adam walks up to their table at Nino’s. He seems to realise that he’s just made a comment on Adam’s appearance a second too late, clearing his throat, but his face is unreadable.

“Thanks, Lynch, always so helpful.” He sits down next to Noah, shivering at the cold as their arms brush together, dead and alive. He could have sat down next to Ronan, but he didn’t. He refuses to regret it and lets his head drop back to rest against the wall. Why would he regret it?

Noah smiles at him like he’s happy to see him, while Gansey is currently too busy sketching something in his journal to acknowledge Adam’s arrival.

When Gansey finally looks up, perhaps as a reaction to the sudden quiet, he gives Adam one look and puts the notebook away, smiling as if he’s been paying the three of them attention all along.

“You really do look worn, Adam. You haven’t been working double again, have you?” and while Adam knows Gansey just cares, he can’t help the bitterness that it awakens in his head, dying to bite back.

Adam hates his anger. He hates how sudden it is, how it swallows him whole and spits what’s left of him out with lame comebacks. He hates it now, especially; he’s tired and he knows that it’s even closer to the surface because of it.

“Yeah, I have, actually, but only because I can’t sleep. And I know both of you are used to it, but I’m not. So I’ve been doing some extra just to make sure I’ll pass out and guess what? It’s not helping.” Adam regrets opening his mouth the second he’s closed it again.

Gansey looks taken back, lips pursed as he considers what Adam’s just announced. Ronan, on the other hand, looks all-but pissed off. He doesn’t have the right to be angry about this, Adam’s the one who’s not sleeping, not Ronan. Adam’s the victim.

Wait, no, that’s not the point.

“How long has it been since you last slept? And I don’t mean a one-hour nap,” Gansey asks carefully, and again Adam has to fight the urge to lash out. He doesn’t need to be babied, he just can’t sleep.

Then Adam starts to think about it. When was the last time he had a good night’s worth of sleep? Suddenly he realises he’s not even sure what day it is. He can’t seem to concentrate enough to figure it out, either.

“What day is it today?”

Ronan mutters something that sounds a lot like “Jesus Christ” under his breath at the same time Gansey replies “It’s Thursday, Adam,” looking worried.

Thursday… He didn’t sleep last night. Nor the night before that, Tuesday-Wednesday. Monday… On Monday, they all went to Cabeswater again, let Ronan and Matthew visit their mother. Sunday… His train of thought is interrupted by the arrival of Blue.

She’s still got those clips in her hair, lighting up at the sight of them. When their eyes meet, Adam remembers how much he wanted her in the beginning. How it felt to have her attention (even if it didn’t last long). Looking at her, the curl of her smile and the wild eyes, he knows that they’re past that now.

Still, Adam still likes her, very much. It was easier to want Blue.

“Jane! How kind of you to join us. We’re trying to figure out when Adam last had a proper rest,” Gansey announces as Blue sits down next to Ronan, opposite Adam. It’s wrong, to see Blue and Ronan next to each other. Her messy hair and his lack thereof. Noah looks at Adam and then at Blue, clearly a bit disappointed that they’re not sitting the other way around.

“Oh, shut up. I’m fine. How are we on the weekend plans?”

They let it go, thankfully, but Adam feels Ronan staring at him even as conversation carries on. Even Noah, who’s usually so perceptive and affected by the feelings of those around him, giggles and talks. Adam does too, trying to ignore how heavy his head feels. It was stupid of him to bring it up. He can handle it.

+

Adam wakes up with a start, eyes opening, then shutting quickly again. Blurry and unfocused; his head hurts. He dreamt. Which must mean that he actually fell asleep.

Turning on his side on the slightly damp bedsheets, he kicks off the bedding and rubs at his face with clammy hands. He’s still tired and his chest is heaving, as if he’d been running and not just sleeping. He doesn’t dream. That’s… well, everyone knows who in the gang has nightmares, and it’s not Adam.

Carefully opening his eyes again, he concentrates to make things focus. Eyes the alarm clock sat on the floor next to the old bed. 3:04am. _Fuck._ One hour of sleep. One single, Cabeswater and Ronan-filled hour. Or, well, half an hour, considering it takes at least 30 minutes to hit the stage of sleep where you dream. Adam shakes his head. It doesn’t matter.

Sitting up, he leans his head to rest against the wall, letting his neck fall backwards until it hits the faded wallpaper. It feels nice, having something support him he doesn’t feel guilty about using.

The images of his dream flicker across the closed lids of his eyes and Adam tries to ignore it, tries to think of something else. Only… he can’t.

Ronan lying on the ground, surrounded by the high trees. His bare back towards where Adam had been standing. The trees whispering, great branches moving with the wind. _Dormio. Cor et caput, dormio. Utor* Greywaren. (Rest. The heart and the head, rest. Use the Greywaren.)_

He could never return what Ronan has done for him in the past, and it frustrates him to think that Ronan was never asked, yet gave anyway. He couldn’t use him, not more than he already has.

Cabeswater is confusing him, trying to feed off of Ronan through him.

He shakes his head, whispers in hopes that Cabeswater will hear, “I can’t.”

He can’t sleep. He can’t be with Ronan. He can’t be Cabeswater’s hands. There is nothing Adam can do. And Adam doesn’t cry, but he thinks that maybe if he were the sort of person to, now’s the time he would.

There’s a knock on the door.

Adam jumps, twisting his head so fast that his neck clicks and he has to blink a few times, too dizzy to move. Knocking again. Banging, loud and clear and almost desperate.

“I swear to God, Parrish, if you don’t open this fucking door I’ll kick it in!” comes Ronan’s voice through the door. Adam’s up in a flash, unlocking and pulling it open and about to hush his yelling friend when his vision goes spotty once more and he has to sit down, _now_.

Ronan catches him around the waist before he hits the floor, strong arms holding him up as Adam tries to catch his breath, shaking his head. Is he hallucinating? He remembers reading that hallucinating can sometimes be an effect of sleep deprivation, trying to focus on Ronan’s face; furrowed eyebrows and set jaw.

“I felt you. I dreamed and I fucking felt you, you idiot,” Ronan says, voice hard and unforgiving. Adam’s too tired to even react to it, other than feel ashamed. He’s so desperate that Cabeswater felt the need to tell Ronan.

Adam wonders idly if Ronan saw the dream. If he saw Adam’s dirt-coloured hair over Ronan’s shoulder, if he saw their interlocked hands and aligned bare chest and back. Bodies lying so close on the green. He saw it, as if he were standing next to them, and he could feel Ronan’s phantom touches as he did it. Did Ronan feel it too? Is that what he’s saying?

“I’m sorry,” falls out of him before he’s got the chance to stop it. It’s been a long time since Adam last said ‘I’m sorry’, and God knows he’s said it enough in the past. Ronan bites down and for a minute, Adam’s scared his jaw or teeth will break. That would be his fault, too.

“Don’t apologise. Just… You’re such a moron.” Ronan looks ready to march into battle, so decided and stern. Ronan’s been fighting all his life, and Adam’s tired of it. He looks away but feels Ronan’s eyes still on his, cheeks burning.

Next thing he knows, he’s being moved towards the old bed. He sets his feet down properly on the floor, making sure Ronan is no longer what’s holding him upright. He doesn’t need the extra weight, Adam knows that better than anyone.

They’re linked; Cabeswater told him about the weight of the world on Ronan’s shoulders. Adam knows.

He moves away from the arm of his friend, keeping his head down and face closed. Adam can’t give anything away, doesn’t have anything to give but the things he’s sure Ronan is better off without. Such as his anger. His fear. Fear of losing everything.

Just as he’s about to sit down on that bed of his, a cold hand closes around his right upper arm. As if he’s been electrocuted, Adam jumps, feels the hairs on his body stand out. It’s not phantom, it’s real, it’s there. Ronan.

“You should… Don’t you think you’d be better off without the shirt? It’s hot as hell.” He makes it sound as though Adam would be stupid not to follow his advice, phrasing it as a question, knowing that the implication will make it sound like he doesn’t particularly want Adam to remove his shirt.

“I’m used to it; trailer boy and all that,” Adam bites back. Turns around so that they’re facing each other, Adam’s back to the bed and the worn sheets and the just-slightly open window.

Ronan watches him carefully, standing in the middle of the room. In the middle of Adam’s room. He’s been there many times before, surrounded by Adam’s shitty things, but it feels different now. There with purpose, and they both know it.

Grabbing the bottom of his ratty old top, he pulls it over his head. Drops it by their feet - his own bare, a little dirty (of course) ones, Ronan’s still shoe-clad. Ronan inhales and Adam feels as if he’s being drawn closer, light on his feet and part of the air.

“Right.”

Adam is standing in nothing but a pair of boxers and his toes are curling, trying to grab onto the floor, and Ronan is staring. And he’s not staring at Adam’s chest or his face, but over his shoulder, out the window. Everything is on fire.

“If you’re going to get me out of my clothes you might as well look.”

Ronan’s gaze shifts so quickly that if he weren’t so scared already, Adam might have feared for his life. There’s a hand on his chest, fingers spread wide, a light push and he’s down on the bed - just like that. Ronan Lynch just pushed him, gently, down on a bed. His heart has never beaten this fast.

“Just lie down, Parrish, let’s get this over with,” Ronan says and his voice betrays him, too quiet for the harsh words as black material rises off of smooth skin, and Adam watches the bones and muscles shift and then he’s moving back, creating space for Ronan to take.

And Ronan just… He sits down, but with his back (and that intricate mess of black and sharp and curled and magic) facing Adam. There’s the metal clink of his belt and Adam can’t remember how to breathe. Memory loss is a sign of sleep deprivation, he reminds himself.

There’s some shifting, Adam moving further back, Ronan lying down and then they’re face to face.

Adam’s cheekbones and deep-set eyes, Ronan’s thin, pink lips and sharp nose. Adam studies them, takes in every little detail - the long, dark lashes, bones and marks. Can feel Ronan’s breath on his skin as he exhales. Pine, Monmouth, and the faintest trace of beer.

Adam owes Ronan so much, and to be faced with him now; to not be able to read those dark eyes and still know that he’s going to owe him even more for this, it’s _too much_.

So he turns. Ronan knows that Cabeswater needs this, for whatever reason. He’s got his reasons and Adam’s just Cabeswater’s hands, Cabeswater’s body. Adam doesn’t know whether he wants this because he wants this or because Cabeswater wants this. To act on it would be too selfish, and Ronan deserves better.

Still, he says “I’m sorry,” and when the bed shifts Adam can feel Ronan move further away, “Don’t… Don’t go.” It takes everything in him to get the words out. It’s defeat. And, with Adam’s approval, Ronan comes back closer.

Adam is suffocating; chest hurts with it. Ronan is there and Adam can no longer hear anything, no whispers or feelings other than his own, as a hand is put down on his waist, curling softly. Anchoring.

“Breathe, Parrish, or you’ll black out. Blacking out and sleeping aren’t the same thing,” and just like that, the air goes in. Deep, to the bottom of his lungs, and out again. It’s loud in the quiet of the bedroom.

“We won’t talk about it. Not you, not me,” Ronan says, and that’s that. Adam doesn’t nod, doesn’t move, just breathes and closes his eyes to block everything out but the points where they’re touching. The back of his knees, Ronan’s hand to his waist, the pointy elbow grazing his neck.

Outside the window the sun is rising, and back at Monmouth Gansey is probably wondering where his raven boy has gone. If Declan knew then he’d probably try to kill them both, and had either of them been anything but desperate then none of what had been said would have been heard.

In the bedroom above St. Agnes’ church Adam is falling asleep, with a pair of soft thin lips pressed to his naked shoulder, thinking

_I’ve got a crush on Ronan Lynch._

**Author's Note:**

> first of all, thank you so much for taking the time to read it ♥
> 
> i'm posting this as a finished work but it's actually (probably) part of a series, because i love them and i love writing them and there's so much left that i want to happen (*hrm* kissing *hrm*). i hope you liked it and you can also find me on [tumblr](http://elloquente.tumblr.com)!
> 
> (trivia: the latin verb utor can apparently be translated in two ways;  
> 1\. enjoy the friendship of  
> 2\. use, make use of, enjoy)


End file.
